For Mimi

It’s my favorite time of the year. I’m happy. I’ve just moved. Things are happening. But more about that later. Tonight, it’s Thanksgiving eve and I’m with Steve and Pop-pop (Ding Ding). Just the three of us. I can’t imagine living without Pop-pop, my dad’s father. He’s been a constant in my life since infancy, and as a family over the years we’ve gone from a nuclear family of six to one of seven. I feel so lucky to be so close to my grandfather, even as we fight about politics and everything else on the way to dinner. I watch he and Steve shout at each other (hearing issues) across the table with pride, my people.

Family is funny, in a way. You’re stuck with them from birth and have arranged interactions with tribe members throughout your childhood. From there you’re kind of on your own to quarterback the relationship. When you have a grandparent like Pop-pop, it’s easy. Despite his constant barrage of pro-Trump spam emails, I consider us close – it’s a bond I hold dear to my heart.

Two weeks ago, my mom’s mother died. Mimi. She and I were once closer than close. I was a kid and she was everything to me. Honestly, growing up I spent so much time with her and Pop-pop (Firetruck) that the memories all blend together. Like looking back on a year of school from your childhood, seemingly so ordinary that my mind must have exported the details to a deleted drive. I spent summers in New Jersey with my mom’s parents, and never wanted to leave. What did we do?

Looking back into the archives of my mind I can remember a few details from my visits there – trips to Hall’s farm where we fed the goats and pigs and learned about snakes, biking to the children’s library in Riverton on Saturday mornings, and swimming in the pool at their house with Brandy …to name a few. Then, seemingly and somewhat amazingly, random details begin to rush into my mind from my time at Mimi and Pop-pops.

I’m lying on the landing of the center staircase of their Riverton house. It’s early morning and my arms are wrapped around Brandy’s neck, who’s tolerating my snuggle assault. Mimi walks down the stairs in her robe and I pretend to be asleep. Squinting through my eyelashes, I watch her walk to the kitchen. She turns and smiles, and it’s a smile I can hear. You could always hear Mimi’s smiles.

It’s late at night. Probably too late for a 7-year-old, but people were less cranky about bedtimes back then. Mimi says we’re going skating. I’m in. We drive to the edge of the Riverton Country Club golf course and pull our skates from the back on their station wagon. The moon is so big and bright I want to pluck it from the sky. Walking to the frozen pond we laugh at the thought of Pop-pop snoozing in his recliner while we’re on an adventure. We see a group of teenagers skating in the distance when we arrive. We glide around the pond laughing, my cheeks burning, our smiles lit by the moon. The night air is so perfect you can taste it.

We’re swimming in the lake at Drew and Jen’s. I love it here. Their perfect log cabin is exactly what I want to live in when I grow up. I’d also like a dog like theirs, a brown lab. Mimi and I are going for a swim. She reminds me not to touch the bottom of the lake with my feet, the texture is “SOOO GROSS” as I used to say. Alas, my feet hit the bottom. As I emerge from the dark water, I can hear Mimi smiling. That was SOOOO GROSSSS, I say. Oh Brynnie, she replies. We swim on towards the shore in the distance eager to touch the sand. Her smile is the last thing I hear before I dive back in.

These memories aren’t significant by any means. A happy kid with her grandmother doing normal family activities. But, I can feel my happiness when I think of her. Yet, in her final years, I wasn’t there. I’m not here to write about regrets or play the martyr today. My relationship with Mimi shuddered to a standstill over the years because of her sickness (dementia), my selfishness, and life. Should I have made more of an effort? Yes. I will live with that fact forever. But I won’t let it haunt me. Because Mimi has made me who I am today.

I followed her love of New England to college in Maine. An avid equestrian, I got my love of animals from Mimi. Outdoorsy to a fault, I find peace like she did, outside.

She may have had faults and may even have had regrets, too. But she gave me her whole self and heart as a grandmother. Even as I write this more memories are trickling into my head. Smells (yellow Dial bar soap), tastes (Jersey peaches and tomatoes), sounds (a smile you can hear) launch me into the days we spent together. They made me who I am. I see Mimi in my mother, my aunt, my sisters and others in my family whenever we’re together, a gift I’ll cherish as long as I’m alive. Most importantly, Mimi embodied the notion of a truly empathetic life. I know she gave me of some her goodness, and, for that I am thankful.

Mimi – I hope you’re cross country skiing with the angels tonight under a cloudless sky, the moonlight on your face. Tell Brandy and Kolya I say hi, and know you’ve always been on my mind and in my heart. That will never change. I promise to go see Pop-pop soon, I’ll bring him our favorite book you bought us, The Grandpa Tree.